Desire
by Dark enchanter
Summary: /Oneshot/ Klonoa has a problem. But the only one he can talk to is the person behind it... SLASH


**WARNING:** Hard-core slash ahead! This is really borderline NC-17 material here, but I think it should just about fall into the 'M' category. Anyway, read it at your own risk.

Disclaimer: I'm a bum, I don't own anything!

**Desire**

There's something bothering Guntz. He would certainly never admit that to anyone, he is far too proud for that, but I can tell. I suppose it's because I'm the one closest to him; the one he took on as a partner, the one who journeyed with him across the great planes of Lunatea, the one he sleeps with every night. When you get that close to someone, you tend to learn a few things about them. Eventually, even the smallest changes in routine start to stand out.

It all started just over a week ago. We had just finished eating the dinner that I had prepared of the pair of us, and I was just settling into my chair by the fire when he announced that he had a 'job' to do that night. Nothing unusual about that, he still took his 'jobs' to help pay for the house and put food on the table. I'd since came to terms with this fact, but it was still a matter I'd rather not think about if I could help it. It's just one of those things I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with.

He packed his guns, bid me farewell and left, riding into the setting sun on his Redclan. I just settled into the chair with a book and awaited his return. Six hours later the book was finished and the candles keeping the room lit were reaching their ends, pools of melting wax threatening to extinguish the flames. I figured that it was going to be an all-night job, and decided to retire for the night. I walked grudgingly up the stairs towards the bedroom, stripped off my clothes and climbed into our bed, blowing out the last remaining candle as I did so and plunging the room into complete darkness.

Our bed. One of the few things we didn't fight over all the time. Everything else in the house seemed capable of spawning some argument over ownership, but not this. This, it was agreed, belonged to the pair of us. But on this night, I settled into it alone. Not the first time I'd done so, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time, but that didn't make it feel any less wrong. This was as much Guntz's as it was mine, and as such, he should be sleeping next to me. Not out somewhere in the depths of Lunatea's underworld, hunting down some elusive target who was to stupid to know; once you've been targeted by the Golden Death, you're as good as dead. It was only a matter of time. Sighing, I turned over and shut my eyes, trying to drive such thoughts from my mind and catch some sleep. And for a while, I did.

It was still the dead of night when I awoke to the feeling of soft paws gently caressing my chest fur, while a warm body pressed itself against my back. He'd returned.

"Guntz..." I moaned, words not really meaning much at this moment. I could guess at why he might have awoken me at this time. I felt a finger pressing against my lips delicately. I was right. While one hand continued to firmly massage my chest, the other left my lips and could be soon felt between my legs, stroking me slowly but roughly, prompting me to gasp at the mixture of pain and pleasure. This continued for several minutes, as I slowly became more aware of his hardness pushing roughly into my back, just above my waist.

All of a sudden, the caressing stopped, and I was flipped onto my front. My hands groped in the darkness for bedsheets to hold onto as I shifted my weight onto my knees, preparing myself for what I knew was the come next. Paws gripped my hips hard, near drawing blood, and with no further warning, Guntz made his first thrust into me.

My body was shoved forwards by the strength of it, and I cried out from the pain. It was like a knife slicing into my guts. A second thrust followed, just as strong. He soon picked up rhythm, slamming himself into be with increasing speed. A few tears escaped my eyes; I couldn't understand what was happening. While Guntz had never been the gentlest of lovers, this was something different. This was angry, primal and aggressive. And it hurt. It hurt so fucking much, I just wanted it to stop.

By the time he came I was exhausted, and as he released me from his grip I fell flat on the bed, my head buried into the pillow. I was breathing heavily and my body ached all over. I shut my eyes and tried not to think about what had happened, I just wanted to sleep and forget all about it. I was subconsciously aware of the other body laying down besides me again, but it didn't really register. It was only when I felt his arms gently wrap around me that I truly remembered he was there.

His grip was tight, unusually so, and as he drew me in closer, he coiled his legs around mine possessively, trying to make as much body contact as he could. This certainly wasn't the Guntz I knew, he was never one for physical contact. Even as lovers, he had always kept at a distance from me, he had a reputation to upkeep after all. It never bothered me though, it was just how he was. Having him cuddled up to me all of a sudden was, a little unnerving to say the least. There was something seriously wrong. Something must have gone wrong with the job he had taken that night, but what? Guntz never talks about his work with me, so asking him would be out of the question. As he nuzzled into my neck, I forgot all about the painful lovemaking of the few minutes prior, and just lay there pondering what could have brought about this change. Before I knew it, I had fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, he was gone.

The bed was empty, and not a trace of him remained. Even his usual smell appeared to be missing, no doubt drowned out by the overpowering smell of dried cum. It clung to my bed and fur, a reminder of all that had happened. I suddenly felt guilty, like I had taken advantage of Guntz in his sensitive state. I felt dirty. I showered, and waited patently for his return. Around mid-afternoon, my wish was granted.

He staggered in the door, barely able to hold himself upright. Keeping his head down, he walked past me, hardly noticing my presence. While such an act may have been typical from Guntz when we first met, now it was very unusual for him to not at least greet me. He was clearly still angry, so I let it slide.

He looked a complete mess. He was covered from head to foot in cuts, bruises, scratches and scrapes and lord knows however many other types of injuries. A few of the deeper wounds had been crudely bandaged up with strips of fabric from his vest, which was hanging off him half ripped apart, either by his enemy or himself. Probably both.

Still staring downwards, he stumbled his way upstairs, and I heard a door slam. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, wondering weather I should go see if he was all right. Eventually, I realised that my presence would just make things worse, so I left to prepare food. At least I could be some use to him that way, he was bound to be hungry, after all.

Making the food, I was lost in my own world. Over the years I've developed somewhat of a love for cooking, I suppose if you do something often enough, you just sorta grow fond of it? I lowered a pair of rump steaks into the pan, hearing them sizzle slightly as they made contact with the oil. Guntz's favourite, It was sure to cheer him up, if only a little.

The aforementioned hunter entered the kitchen at about that moment, almost buckling under the weight of the weapons he was carrying. Twin handguns, rifle, shotgun, Uzi's, flame-thrower, grenade launcher, rocket launcher and ever his laser canon, all hanging off of his body by various straps and holsters, or, in the case of his rifle, cradled lovingly in his arms pointed upwards, like a soldier might carry his weapon. Peering through the mountain of armoury, I notice he has managed to change his jacket. From one finger dangled the keys to his beloved Red-Clan.

"Guntz!" I called over to him, having already forgotten my previous fear, "Guntz, dinner will be in a few minutes okay?" He continued heading towards the door, paying me no heed. "Guntz? It's your favourite. Surely you can at least stay for some food? Right?"

For the first time since he had walked in, he rose his head up to meet my gaze. I wish he hadn't. Staring into his eyes was like staring into a pool of pure sorrow, despair and self-loathing. It was a look that made you want to drop dead on the spot. And for a fraction of a second, I thought I saw a tear escape the void. But the next moment, his eyes were back on the floor, and he was back on his slow march to his bike. I didn't try and stop him.

I knew what had happened. He had been bested. Someone had defeated him, and he would not rest till he got his vengeance. And I couldn't stand in his way of that. Not just because he'd take me out without a second thought, but because he wouldn't be the same ever again. And I couldn't live with him like that. It didn't matter to me how many people he had to slay, how many innocent lives had to be lost at the barrel of his pistol. So long as he was in my bed come sunset, I didn't care. Call it greed, call it selfishness, it really doesn't matter. I just wanted the old Guntz back. No matter what the cost.

I cried myself to sleep that night, knowing that I might never see him again; never look upon that proud and noble face, never the soft neck fur, never the wonderfully toned muscles hidden beneath his hunters jacket. It had been all stolen away from me, by an enemy of which I knew nothing. All I knew was that I hated them more than anything right then.

And it was on tear-stained pillows that I awoke once again, to a tongue licking the soft and delicate inside of my ear while teeth traced their way around it. I was filled with so much hope at that moment; hope that it was all over, that Guntz had returned victorious and that our duel torment was over. But, alas, there was no such luck. A repeat performance of the night before. The sharp thrusting, the paws gripping my sides, the complete lack of mercy. I bit down on my tongue to avoid crying out in pain. I didn't want to make Guntz any more upset, so I stay quiet and took it. All of his pain, all of his sorrow was shot into me, and I took all of it, to try and help in any way I could.

Though once again, when I awoke, he was gone. This has been going on a week now. Every night, the rough, passionate sex. Very, very passionate, actually. It doesn't hurt any more, I've gotten used to it. Now all I can feel is the pure pleasure of it all. Every night, inside of me. I know I'm selfish for wondering this, but... is this going to end, when Guntz finds his foe?

I mean, it's not that I don't want him to avenge himself, to recover his honour. Obviously that's important to him, and therefore to me as well. It's just that... this is the most physical we've been since we started seeing each other. And... I like it. The way he exposes himself to me on such an emotional level. First his pain, and, then his longing. His compassion. He's never let me properly see that before. And, I don't want to lose it.

But, I miss seeing him. Ever since I saw him walk out of the kitchen, I haven't seen his face. It's like he's ashamed, ashamed of losing. He always stays behind me when we make love, and when we cuddle after. I want to see him again. I want him to be happy. But I want him to be open with me.

That's not too much to ask, is it?


End file.
